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31 
 

“immigrant skies” 
Amber Williams- King 

 

The sun never sets 

in this city. 

  

Light clings to the horizon 

like a jealous King 

gripping his crown 

as he conquers the night 

banishing every illegal glimmer, 

each gratuitous glow. 

It is a sky radiance raped 

and bright abandoned; 

dark, 

empty, 

no longer alight. 

 

Here, 

stars are all fallen knights 

imprisoned 

by street lamps 

and concrete walls, 

cocooned 

in expired posters 

and stale graffiti. 

There are no sparkling  

sapphire nights, 

no constellations 

to connect the images  



AMBER WILLIAMS-KING| 
IMMIGRANT SKIES 

 

32 
 

of childhood dreams 

birthed on Islands; 

only a dull orange haze 

hanging low 

in the distance 

and a lot of people who never look up because there’s nothing 

to see. 

It is a place where new faces, 

like mine, 

go as unnoticed as a misplaced moon. 

 


